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That
Paul Merson should be turning out in a Walsall shirt these days
is something of a minor miracle, and not simply because Colin Lee
managed to pull off one of the greatest transfer coups of all time
in taking the former England international to the Bescot Stadium
after he had inspired Portsmouth to promotion last term.
The
very fact that Merson is still alive and literally kicking is testimony
to his talent and to the unbreakable nature of the human spirit,
for Merson has looked out for the count on so many occasions during
the last dozen or so years.
Merson is living proof of the old cliché that there are times
when searing talent goes hand in hand with a bent for self destruction,
George Best being possibly the best example of that. But Merse has
undeniably pushed even Bestie pretty hard when it comes to living
a life at odds with that of the professional athlete, burning the
candle at both ends and in the middle, of pushing himself to the
absolute limits through a heady and terrifying cocktail of addictions
to drink, drugs and gambling.
As Merson would be the first to admit, every day that he wakes up
he has to face up to and then face down all of those demons again,
and no matter how well yesterday might have gone, the challenge
is just as fierce with every new dawning, for such addictions are
things you can never conquer, but can only manage day by day. Indeed,
it may even be that that very personality, that all consuming drive
is the same engine that has fed what must be recognized as one of
the most exciting and combustible talents that English football
has produced in the last decade.
Many observers shake their heads sadly and wonder just what
Merson might have done with his gifts had he not spent so much time
“squandering” them, yet they fail to appreciate that it
is all part of the man’s make up, that desire to go to the
edge, whatever he’s doing. In life, that can be terrifying.
On the football field it can be life enhancing.
Name any England player of the last fifteen years and you can easily
argue that Merson is, in terms of talent, their equal. He has scored
goals that defy logic, turned games that were lost, sparked ordinary
sides to extraordinary heights. He’s a man that can never be
bored, who always craves fresh stimuli and when he’s engulfed
by the sanctuary of the football field, that constant searching
turns him into something very special.
He’s always searching for the impossible pass, ready to shoot
from the incomprehensible angle or the unfeasible distance, ready
to take a gamble on his skill against the defender or the goalkeeper.
Most players instinctively play the percentage game, just as the
rest of us do in our day to day lives. But for Merson, the percentages
are irrelevant. He has to give rein to his extravagant imagination,
has to make the pictures he can see his head come true on the field,always
has to push himself on to a new level.
His career over the last half a dozen years, post-Arsenal, has been
especially fascinating, for time and again he’s looked to take
on failing clubs and give them the impetus they need to push on
to the next level. He galvanized Middlesbrough to promotion and
cup finals, helped Aston Villa become a fixture in the Premier League’s
top six, and then carried Portsmouth back into the top flight with
a dozen goals last term.
Without a doubt, Merson is the biggest signing in Walsall’s
history and again his influence appears crucial in helping change
perceptions of the Saddlers from a Second Division club with ideas
above their station to fully paid up members of the First Division
and deservedly so.
But without football, what would Merson be? Would he have had a
happier, easier life or would he have been yet more frustrated,
unable to express himself the way football allows him to? Without
a doubt his life would have been very different. And, without a
doubt, as football fans, our lives would have been the poorer. He’s
some player.
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